by Jade Kerrion
Ashe laughed soundlessly. Jinn squawked, “Guppy.”
Varun twisted around to look at Jinn. “Was that you, or did she put you up to it?”
“Guppy. Guppy. Guppy.”
“Now you’re just being rude.”
Jinn spread his gray wings. His expression was both smug and insolent.
Varun contemplated stroking the parrot’s head, but reconsidered it when the parrot narrowed its beady eyes. He turned back to Ashe. “How do we stop Zamir?”
Ashe bit down on her lower lip. “Zamir—alone—isn’t the problem. He’s only one Beltiamatu. The problem is the infected Beltiamatu—the ones who are willing to do anything to obey their king.”
“If he were not their king, would they still blindly follow him?”
“In theory, no. The Beltiamatu obey their king.”
“And who is Zamir’s heir?”
“I don’t know. I did not see anyone he acknowledged as his child or heir, but a young one called him grandfather. The one we saw in the corridor talking to him—Kai. He had his doubts about what Zamir was doing. He was among those who pursued us.”
“Did he make it? Did he survive Big Thing?”
Ashe shrugged. “We didn’t stay around long enough to check.”
“So, if we replace Zamir, his heir—and it may be Kai—could, at least in theory, call off whatever is happening to the oceans.”
“In theory, yes, but did you notice the number of infected Beltiamatu in the courtyard and the courtroom?” Her eyes narrowed. “Seventy, eighty percent, perhaps more. That’s a lot of infected Beltiamatu, and the archives weren’t clear on what would happen to them. Would they just get sicker and die if they didn’t preempt it by sacrificing themselves? Zamir’s only part of the problem. We also have to stop all the others somehow without spilling their blood.”
“Zamir should know, wouldn’t he, how to stop what’s happening?” Varun asked. “After all, it’s his plan. If we can convince him to do the right thing—”
“I think he’s rather beyond listening at this point.”
Varun frowned. “The dagger…”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?”
“Is it still attuned to Zamir?”
She nodded slowly, and to Varun’s eyes, reluctantly.
“If Zamir receives a soul, will he stop?”
She stared at Varun; her large turquoise eyes bore the anguish of a trapped, wounded animal. “It would depend on the soul…”
Chapter 22
“Captain!” Jackson’s voice shouted through the cabin door. His heavy fist pounded upon the wood. “Storm’s a brewing, captain. You’ve got to see this.”
Ashe flung the blanket aside and dressed quickly. Varun, she noticed, averted his gaze and studiously looked away. She did not get it. If one wanted to be strictly technical, her body was not even really there. It was just a concentration of astral energy into a physical form. What was it with Varun and his awkward human hang ups?
With Jinn on her shoulder, Ashe flung the door open and strode out. Varun emerged behind her. Jackson’s surprised gaze took in the both of them, but he, wisely, said nothing. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Sky’s clear for miles around. Weather radar says nothing’s on the horizon, but the water’s tossing twenty footers, and they’re getting higher.”
Jinn stretched his wings. “Dock the ship.”
“We’re on our way in, captain. Might be another five or so minutes before we hit the port.”
“Dry dock her if you have to. No one goes out to sea, and no one—absolutely no one—goes underwater.”
Jackson’s rapid stride faltered. “Captain, I…” He inhaled deeply. “Everyone’s nervous. Afraid. We’ve sailed for decades. Added up, we have hundreds of years of experience. No one has ever seen the sea like this. Like it’s aware. Alive. And angry.”
Ashe drew a deep breath as she stepped out onto the deck. She raised her face to the unmoving air, which contrasted sharply with the raging, white-capped waves. The sea appeared a brilliant, glittering blue—somehow even more ominous than the gray of a storm. A wave, easily twenty or more feet tall, carried the ship over a crest before dropping it into a trough. Both Jackson and Varun went tumbling over the deck. They grabbed onto sturdy ropes and with difficulty, dragged themselves to their feet. Jinn squawked and darted into the safety of the enclosed corridor.
Ashe stood alone and unmoving, anchored by air, and faced the storm.
The ship bucked and reared like a wounded animal. The waves rose between them and the safety of shore. Instead of sweeping them toward land, the waves carried the ship out into open water.
“Ashe!” Varun shouted. “Do something!”
The white crest of waves surged toward them. “Look!” Jackson pointed at the incoming wall of water. “Faces…” His voice trembled. “There are people in the water—”
The Beltiamatu rose out of the water, surfing along the surface on glistening scales. Their skin ghastly pale and their hair leeched of color, they looked like ghouls instead of mermaids. Their taloned hands clasped around platinum spears. The wave carried them toward the ship.
Wave after wave rose behind the first, each one carrying an army of Beltiamatu. Their teeth bared, fangs extended. The air vibrated with war cries too high in frequency to be heard.
But the merfolk were in her domain now.
Ashe called vast power to her without moving a muscle.
Like a sharpened sword, air sliced across the base of the wave. Its structure shattered, the wave collapsed into individual droplets. The Beltiamatu plunged twenty feet back into the water. Ashe’s eyes narrowed. They would not die—and she could not risk shedding their poisoned blood—but she would stop them regardless.
Air swept beneath the Veritas, lifting it off the water.
Jackson grabbed on to the rail. “What’s going on?” He stared around him, eyes wild. “What’s happening?” He peered overboard at the water, which rushed beneath the ship in the opposite direction, still trying to sweep them out to open sea. Then he looked up at the port, looming closer every second. “What are we on?”
“Air.” Varun’s voice was grim. His gaze fixed on the water as waves rippled far out to sea, gathering momentum as they swept toward land. “Ashe, they’re coming again. And it’s going to be huge.”
Get in. Tell everyone to hold tight.
Jackson’s eyes widened. He had obviously heard Ashe in his head too. He was, however, too well-trained a first mate to argue with the captain. He stumbled along the deck, holding on to the railing for support, before lurching into the corridor.
Varun, however, did not move. “What are you going to do?”
Beach the ship.
“And then what? You can’t surround all of Kalymnos in a wall of air.”
One thing at a time. Once I ground the ship, I want you to get everyone off and as far inland as possible. We’re not going to make it easy for the Beltiamatu.
“When was the last time they fought people on land?”
Ashe’s mouth twitched. Atlantis.
Varun cursed under his breath. “Will they use the Dirga Tiamatu here? Now?”
I don’t know. She did not want to dwell on that possibility. Ashe raised her arms, and more air surged beneath the ship, lifting it higher off the waves and rushing it toward land.
“You’re going to rip the hull on those rocks.” Varun pointed to an inlet instead. “Over there. Beaches and sea grasses. They’ll hold the ship without wrecking it.”
Ashe flipped her wrists. The wind obeyed, turning the ship and redirecting it to the beach. The ship lurched as it transitioned from water to land. For a still, silent moment, it seemed to hover above the sand, then slowly lowered.
Varun held his breath.
Ashe did too. Air flowed around her, obedient to her will. The ship tilted gently to rest on its side. She drew a deep breath. Get them all out.
She glanced over her shoulder at the incoming wave as it s
welled from enormity into a monstrosity. Tension tightened her jaw. There was no wall of air powerful enough to stand against a tidal wave. Motion flickered behind her as her crew stumbled off the ship and sprinted for the safety of high ground.
Varun grasped her upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Everyone’s off the Veritas. Come on, you too.”
She was the last to climb the hill, the tallest on Kalymnos. She spun around, her breath catching in her throat. From all directions, in defiance of the planet’s weather patterns, the waves were surging toward the island.
“There are villages by the beach,” Varun shouted. “Go! Warn them. Tell them to go inland. Get to high ground. Take nothing!”
The crew of the Veritas stared at the incoming waves for another silent, stricken moment, and then scrambled down the hill, shouting evacuation warnings.
You know the island. Are there caves, safe places where people can hide?
“What do you need?”
I can’t protect the entire island, but if it’s a small enough area—I can barricade a cave entrance.
Varun shook his head. “There’s nothing. Just beaches and cliffs. The only other high ground is where my home is, but it’s open and those waves—” He released his breath in a shuddering sound. “They’re high enough they might actually break over my house.” His gaze swept across the ocean then fixed on one spot. His voice trembled. “Ashe…”
She followed his gaze to a wave, higher than any other. Its crest gleamed with white caps, but the sunlight reflected off the top, glittering bright gold. Zamir.
The lord of the ocean, ruler of the Beltiamatu, rode to war, a glittering trident in his raised hand. “Asherah!”
Her eyes narrowed. Her chin lifted. You humans have a whimsical saying—mother to child. I brought you into this world—
“I can take you out?” Varun shook his head. “It’s not just him. We have to stop all his poisoned people. You said so.”
“But it starts with him.”
Varun frowned. “How is he controlling the waves? Surely not the way you control the air.”
She shook her head. The seismic devices at the Oceans Court. He’s aimed them at Kalymnos and programmed them to disrupt the currents at the seabed with minor tremors. The tremors set off a ripple of water that grows as it approaches land.
“Like underwater earthquakes and tidal waves, I got that.”
Except that he can direct these with his trident. It fine-tunes his seismic control. He’s forcing the waves to converge on Kalymnos.
“And if I can reach the Oceans Court and turn them off?”
Ashe glanced over her shoulder. How will you get there? The battle is up here.
“The air bubble thing you do…”
It may last long enough to get you down there. It won’t be enough to get you back up.
“We have to save the island. Do you have a better plan?”
A distorted sound rippled across the waves. Varun grimaced. “Sounds like a humpback whale with a cold.”
Ashe frowned. She waved her hands, drawing the air molecules in front of her into a denser curtain, approximating the density of water.
The sound moved through the thick air and sharpened into distinct words of the Beltiamatu language. Zamir’s voice rumbled, the sound achingly melodic. “The land will not save you. Nor will the air. The Earth has no space for creatures like you—soulless elementals, absent of allegiances, devoid of love. You will perish—you and all who stand by you.”
“What did he say?” Varun demanded.
He’s angry. Wants to kill us all.
“Does he know you can’t die?”
I don’t think the technicalities matter to him. Quick. We have to evacuate the villages by the beach.
They raced down the beach together. Jinn flew ahead of them, mimicking an air raid siren.
Varun grimaced at the piercing sound. “Where did he learn that?”
World War II.
“Movies?”
No. The real thing.
Varun blinked. “But that was more than seventy years ago. It can’t be. Jinn…”
Jinn is not quite a normal parrot.
“You mean other than his vast vocabulary of curse words?” Varun managed a tight grin. He skidded down the grassy path, past people who were struggling up the hill, and stopped Jackson, who brought up the rear. “Did you get to Ankyra?”
“What?”
“The village of Ankyra. Another half-mile to the east.”
“No, damn it.” Jackson swore aloud. “Didn’t know it was there.”
He turned around, but Varun shook his head. “I’ve got it. You keep going. Get these people out of here. Highest ground is up that hill.”
Varun’s pace quickened. Ashe sprinted alongside him. How bad is it?
He grimaced. “Ankyra’s right on the beach. It’s completely open. There’s no cover. Not for miles. The closest shelter would be my family’s house. It’s right on the cliff above Ankyra, but it’s a sheer face.”
How high?
“About a hundred feet.”
She grimaced. Far below, the panic-stricken villagers raced inland, away from a wave that grew higher with each moment. It was less than a minute from crashing over the island.
“They’ll never get away in time.”
No. She knew it too. You first.
“What?” Varun struggled for an instant as he was swept off his feet and lifted high. The villagers stopped running long enough to stare, mouth agape, as he was deposited at the top of the cliff.
Ashe allowed herself a grim smile. It was easier when they were too stunned to react. Wind came at her call. Air, usually fickle, focused and tightened its grip, lifting several villagers off the ground.
They flailed, legs kicking.
“It’s all right!” Varun shouted to them in Greek. “She won’t let you fall.”
They stared down at her, their eyes wide. For a moment, she wondered what they saw—someone who looked like them, but who was nothing like them. She deposited the first group on the cliff, next to Varun, and then grabbed the second. Ashe spared a glance out at the incoming tidal wave. She had time for two more groups—the last of the villagers. And barely.
The second group safely relocated to the top of the cliff, she wrapped her powers around the third waiting group of villagers.
“Come back!” a woman shouted as a little girl darted away, back toward the houses.
But the wind had already started carrying them up. “Helen!” the woman screamed, her arms extended to the girl.
At the top of the cliffs, Varun had to throw his arms around the woman to keep her from jumping back down for her daughter.
The sound of the incoming wave was deafening. Varun stared at the wall of water—almost taller than the cliff—and started ushering people toward his house. Ashe ground her teeth and sent a stray draft of air toward the village. She could not spare too much, not when she had a final group to get to safety.
The fourth group was halfway up the cliff when the wisp of air returned, propelling along a little girl, holding a doll. Ashe held the girl close to her as the wave crashed over the land and steamrolled up the beach. Her air elemental powers set the villagers down on the cliff then unwrapped, throwing up a wall to deflect the water from pummeling even the high ground.
Somewhere, a woman was screaming.
The little girl, too, screamed as Ashe picked her up. The child turned her back on the incoming water and buried her face against Ashe’s hair.
Air rallied to Ashe, encapsulating her and the little girl.
Ashe stood unmoving as the wave swept over her. “It’s all right,” she said to the girl in stilted Greek. “Look.”
The child raised her head and stared, wide-eyed, at the water all around them. “We are under the sea!”
No, we are on the land, but the sea has come to us. For a while. Ashe pointed to the sea creatures caught up in the wave. Fishes. Eels. Even a small pod of dolphins. T
hey swam in circles, instinctively trying to return to the ocean, but lost amid the debris of human homes.
The girl hugged her doll to her, her small face solemn as the remnants of her life drifted past her.
Ashe touched the doll’s face. What’s her name?
“Helen.”
Just like your name.
The girl nodded. “She was Mama’s doll. Mama wanted a little girl so much that she prayed and prayed. When I came, she called me Helen.” The girl kissed the doll’s tangled plastic hair. “And now she’s my doll. I will give her to my daughter.” She spoke with the absolute authority that only a child could assert.
Shall we go to your mama now?
Helen nodded again. “Do you have a baby too?”
Why do you ask?
“Just the way you hold me. Tight. Like Mama.”
Ashe swallowed through the lump in her throat. Movement shifted around her. Tails longer and more graceful than any fish could lay claim swished toward her.
Helen’s eyes grew even wider. “People, with tails.”
They are mermaids and mermen. Ashe’s gaze fixed on one in particular—Zamir’s grandson, Kai. He hovered in the water, keeping back from the other Beltiamatu who swam threateningly around her. Their eyes met. There was wary recognition in his gaze and an odd hesitation.
He was also the only one among the Beltiamatu who lacked the sickly pallor on his skin.
The other Beltiamatu warriors lunged forward with spears, but Ashe’s wall of air was as unyielding and impenetrable as steel.
Then she saw him. Zamir.
Amid the seemingly endless cascade of water, Zamir approached her cocoon of air. He stared at the little girl in her arms. His voice was a low, melodic song, the haunting tune contrasting sharply with the cutting words. “As always, others pay the price for your poor choices.”